


If You Let Me Go I Swear I'll Drown

by Bennyhatter



Series: Shifter 'Verse [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Danny is a Shifter, Danny needs so many hugs, Emotional Baggage, Get on that Steve, Hurt/Comfort, It will get fixed eventually, M/M, Sap and sweetness, Shifters, Shifters are known, Someone Hug Danny Williams, Steve isn't the only one with Issues, author cannot tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: Steve escapes from prison. Danny has feeling about this; also there are a lot of feelings in general.





	If You Let Me Go I Swear I'll Drown

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why Danny's parts don't get quite as long as Steve's, but it felt perfect to end this one right here, and so I did.
> 
> I swear, we will get to see Danny's Shift soon. We're so close, guys; bad shit is coming but our boys will get through it. They will make it, and there will be all of the love, and it will be as perfect as these crazy, crazy motherfuckers are capable of making it.
> 
> For now, MORE PLOT TWISTS OHO WHAT HAVE WE HERE.
> 
> Anyway. Have a chapter full of angst and explanation. I hope it comes across in a way that makes sense. If not, yell at me; I'll do my best to fix it.
> 
> (also if there are a lot of typos please forgive me my head hurts so bad; if you could kindly point them out I will try to fix those as well ;u;)
> 
> ENJOY~

Danny is in the middle of bringing Commander Joe White - Steve’s old commanding officer, the man who knew him best and their best bet at helping to get him the hell out of prison - up to speed on what's been happening when everything goes to hell. Agony rips through his side and he crushes the tablet in his hands from shock and pain; a guttural snarl tearing from his throat before he drops the remaining shattered pieces and tears at his shirt. Buttons go pinging in every direction and dark red blood streaks across the material from his lacerated palms. Danny can already feel his body working to heal him, forcing out glass fragments and debris so the skin can knit back together, but he's more focused on ripping his shirt open to paw at his left side, just above his hip. He leaves bloody smears and smudges against the unblemished skin, confusion and fear warring in his chest as he tries to figure out what the fuck just happened. He's not hurt but he can _feel_ a wound there, the pain not as searing as the initial surge but still throbbing just beneath the surface. His Shift presses insistently, claws popping free and almost gouging his skin until he jerks his hands away, grinding his palms against his eyes instead and snarling in frustration.

 

“Son?” Commander White reaches for him with exaggerated care, like he thinks Danny is going to go rabid and lunge for his throat if he moves too suddenly. None of that is expressed in his face or in his scent, but Danny is all too familiar with suspicious reactions when people realize what he is.

 

“Something’s wrong,” he growls, using his sleeve to clean his face and wiping his tacky palms on his jeans. He's going to have to change clothes - he looks like an extra in a horror film - but he's not overly concerned about that right now. His side still hurts but it's fading, the slick feeling of phantom blood making him twitch and growl low in his throat as he paces. Glass and plastic crunches beneath his shoes, the remains of the tablet splintering further with every pass; he kicks then out of the way and pauses as a scent tickles his nose. He closes his eyes and breathes in, dragging Steve’s scent deep into his lungs and hoarding it jealously. He bares his teeth, feeling the absence of his best friend more keenly than usual, and the ache in his side flares sharply in response.

 

Danny goes absolutely still for a moment before lunging toward the computer table and his phone just as it starts to ring. Commander White watches with curiosity and interest but Danny doesn't have the time to fill him in. He sees Chin’s name beneath his picture, shoves down the _hurt_ and squashes it savagely, and hits ‘accept’ so hard a crack trails up the side of his screen.

 

“Chin,” he says urgently, his voice thick and rough and a hand fisted in his disheveled hair. He uses that ache as a point of focus, hanging onto his control by the skin of his teeth. “Chin, talk to me. I need you to talk to me. _No bullshit_ , I am not in the mood. What happened? What's going on? What happened to Steve?” It's half demand and half plea, a whine building in his throat that he refuses to let free. He holds his breath instead, unnaturally still and poised to lunge.

 

“How did you-?” HPD’s newest lieutenant - it hurts to think; Chin is _pack_ , not a puppet, but that's a fight for another time - cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. “Steve was stabbed less than ten minutes ago by Hesse,” he reports, and Danny can barely hear every emotion he's trying to hide through the howling in his head. “He got around the guards and attacked Steve out in the yard; it's not serious, but they're transporting him to the hospital. He's okay, Danny.”

 

“I'm gonna kill him,” Danny seethes, and he can't tell at that moment if he's talking about Steve or Hesse. He hangs up before Chin can ask and laces his fingers behind his head, curling in on himself and listening to his sharp, ragged gasps. He has to calm down. Steve has been _stabbed_ but it's not fatal. He's going to be okay and they're going to find Wo Fat, or prove it was him that killed Governor Jameson, and Steve will get to come home and then Danny is going to _kill him_ for letting Hesse get the jump on him in the first place.

 

“Everything alright, Detective?”

 

Danny flinches because he's almost forgotten that Commander White is still watching him. Letting his hands fall, he stands up fully and looks at the man he'd reached out to on Steve’s request; no one knows him like his uncle Joe, the man who had trained him when he joined the Navy. He'd taken Steve in and acted like a surrogate father, teaching him everything he'd need to know to keep himself alive. Danny stares at the man across from him, taking in the tanned skin and the twinkling eyes. He swallows thickly and shakes his head.

 

“Steve got stabbed,” he murmurs unevenly, panic and rage making an ugly combination that bubbles in his chest like tar. He wants to tear into something, his Shift howling for freedom, but Danny knows that's not an option. He has to get to Steve and make sure he's okay. “They're taking him to the hospital.”

 

“Ah,” Commander White says, _nothing else_ , and Danny keeps his teeth covered by sheer force of will.

 

“What, what is that ‘ah’. What does that mean, ‘ _ah_ ’.”

 

“Son, I trained Steve myself.” The Commander puffs up with pride and Danny wants to dig his claws in for _answers_ until that ego bursts like a balloon. “He is one of the most capable SEALs I have ever had the honor of serving with. In all the years he led his men, there were rarely fatalities and always minimal casualties.”

 

“That's wonderful, truly it is, but _none_ of that helps me right now,” Danny grits out through clenched teeth.

 

“We won't find Steve at the hospital,” White clarifies. Danny feels like he's about to have an aneurysm. “We'd best put our noses to the ground and start sniffing, son; Steve won't stay on that ambulance any longer than he has to.”

 

“I am handcuffing _all of them_ to this table,” Danny spits before he grabs his phone and lopes toward the door. He feels fur ripple down his spine; his tailbone aches and his jaws shift and the ache in his side still feels wet, like there's fresh blood beneath his shirt. He pauses before throwing the doors open, snarls out a curse, and ducks back toward his office to change into a spare set of clothes. If he really is about to hunt all over O’ahu for his injured, wayward partner, he knows he needs to look like a proper detective and not like he's just committed a murder.

 

“What's your Shift, Detective?” White asks curiously once Danny is dressed and heading for the door again.

 

“Canine,” he says, clipped and cold. His phone rings again and he doesn't bother checking before he answers this time. “Tell me you have him or so help me, Chin.”

 

“He escaped.” Chin sounds frustrated and worried, his usually calm, stoic temperament cracking enough for Danny to hear his growing distress. “He knocked out the EMTs and _jumped_ out of the back of the ambulance, Danny. He's in the wind.”

 

“Only McGarrett, I swear.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny groans loudly. “Alright, I'm with his former commanding officer. We're gonna start searching the streets around where he jumped. I know he's a SuperSEAL and all that, but he's injured and in pain; he can't have gone far.”

 

“Danny.” Chin’s quiet voice drops a few more notices and picks up a note of urgency that makes Danny's nape prickle. “HPD are being authorized to bring Steve in with whatever force is necessary. It's shoot to incapacitate as soon as we have a visual.”

 

“Of course it is,” Danny mutters sarcastically. “So we gotta find him first.”

 

“He's my friend too,” the lieutenant reminds him. “I want him safe; I want him _free_.”

 

“Not badly enough.” Danny hangs up on him and turns to look at Commander White. “Looks like it's time to start hunting,” he says with a gesture that's part frustrated and part helpless. “I have no idea what he's thinking.”

 

“What he was trained for,” the Commander says, like it's just that simple. When Danny stares at him, he rolls his head from side to side like he's getting ready for a fight. “He'll find weapons, and then he'll find a place to hole up that he can defend easily. It's as much natural instinct for him as your Shift is for you.”

 

That makes a lot of sense, but there's still far too many places on O'ahu that Steve can go. Danny rules out their houses, Chin’s, and Kono’s on principle; even injured and looking fur safety, Steve won't hide where they'll look first. He's smarter than that. Dealing with the criminal underbelly of the island on a constant basis will guide him to an arm's dealer easily; he'll keep one step ahead and do his best to blend in until he can vanish right under their noses. Danny wouldn't put it past his partner to go after Wo Fat as soon as he patches himself up, and to do that he's going to need a lot of guns.

 

There's only one person Danny can think of right now that Steve would trust for that. Scowling, he digs out his keys and heads for the door. “Come on,” he says, the words twisted into a rumble until they're almost indistinguishable from the sound of Danny's frustration and anger. “I know where we have to go first.”

He’ll call Kono on the way. She may be suspended pending a review, but she considers Steve pack just as much as Danny does; she’ll help however she can until they figure this thing out.

 

\--

 

Kamekona is a good man with a big heart, but Danny is in no mood for games or distractions. He knows the cheerful man is still leaning toward seedier dealings away from his legitimate business, but he’s a good informant and he’s their friend. They’re willing to let certain things slide if he stays willing to help them, Danny included, but right now the last thing he wants to engage in is fucking _distractions_ and run-arounds.

“I don’t have guns here,” Kamekona denies emphatically, shaking his head and trying to diffuse Danny’s growing rage with a bright smile. “I thought McGarrett was still in pri-”

“His scent is all over your property,” Danny says flatly, and that shuts the bigger man up effectively. Commander White watches with interest, saying nothing, which leaves Danny to loom threateningly despite the fact that Kamekona is almost as tall as Steve. “I know he was here,” he growls, coming closer and leaning in until the entrepreneur leans back and swallows. Kamekona can fight, they all know he can, but his kindness is greater than his will to fight and he will never hurt someone unless they try to hurt him first. Danny has no intention of striking the man – he just has no _patience_ to deal with side-steps either. “Kamekona,” he tries again, letting some desperation creep into his tone. “Please. He’s hurt and I need to find him. I _need_ to find him.” More than they realize, although he and Steve have made no attempt to hide their relationship from their friends. It’s been two months since the Kapu’s peace run and their hike up into the mountains the next morning; two months since that first kiss and every incredible one since. Danny has covered Steve in his scent, in whatever marks he can get away with, and Steve has done the same to him. They haven’t tried for more yet – they’ve been more than happy with just kissing and touching and _learning_ – but Steve might as well have _CLAIMED_ painted across his chest in Danny’s handwriting. Certain breeds of Shifter can be possessive and territorial of their mates, and Danny is one of them. Whether that’s because of his breed or something unique to him doesn’t matter; Steve is hurt – his partner is _hurt_ – and Danny is more than willing to tear all of O’ahu to pieces to find him.

“He said he was lookin’ for a disguise and a place to hide,” Kamekona finally admits, shaking his head and smelling strongly of regret. “He didn’t tell me where, Danny, I swear. Said it was easier in case HPD came askin’ if I could honestly tell them I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me.” He stresses it earnestly, his eyes wide and imploring, and Danny nods even as his shoulders slump.

“I believe you, big guy,” he promises. He’s so tired and so wound up at the same time, adrenaline buzzing in his veins and making him feel like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin. His instincts are a constant roar in his ears – _find him find mate find Steve find find find_ _Steve_ ; driving him with single-minded focus, keeping his teeth sharp and his claws ready as his Shift’s wildness snarls just beneath his humanity. Danny has never met anyone who splinters his control as easily as Steve McGarrett, and yet it never actually snaps. He’s never lost that battle, not once since they became partners. Slips are common for a Shifter – no one is perfect, especially not Danny. Despite everything they’ve done, every murderer and drug cartel and Hesse and _Wo Fat_ , Danny has never forgotten who he is, and he knows it’s because he has Steve.

“Thanks, Kamekona,” he rasps before he turns away. Closing his eyes, he breathes in for another hit of Steve’s scent – _blood pain anger frustration determination_. Letting it out slowly, he shakes his head and makes his way back to the Camaro to sit and breathe for a moment. Joe is close behind him, silent and serene when he slides into the passenger’s seat and waits for Danny to collect his thoughts.

“I need to find him,” Danny mutters, and Joe makes a quiet noise of agreement.

“You will,” he says calmly. “If anyone can find McGarrett, it’s going to be you.”

Danny’s phone rings and he almost drops it in his haste to answer, cursing before jamming it between his head and shoulder as he turns the car away from Kamekona’s house and starts driving. “Williams,” he barks.

“Danny,” Chin says, and his tone has the Shifter sitting up straighter, gripping his phone hard enough that he hears something crack before he deliberately relaxes his grip.

“Tell me,” he rumbles, his other hand tight around the steering wheel.

“Steve knocked out a cop; stole his uniform and his cruiser. They’re bumping the orders, Danny; they’re going to treat him as a _hostile_.” Chin sounds furious, his voice rough and scratching like he’d been shouting before he called Danny.

“The fuck they will,” Danny snarls. “I’m guessing he disabled the cruiser’s GPS, the fuckin’ Boy Scout.”

“No activity or sightings since he stole it,” Chin agrees. “He hasn’t been back to the Governor’s house either; he’s a ghost right now, brah. He’s got HPD chasing wisps.”

“That’s because he’s not some common, stupid criminal.” Steve is far too smart for that. He’s a goddamn Navy SEAL, not some buyer peddling coke on the streets. His phone beeps in his ear and Danny grits his teeth. “Keep me updated, Chin. Please. I know Five-0 is history right now, but-”

“Once Five-0, always Five-0,” Chin interrupts quietly. “Always _o’hana_ , brother. Call me when you find him.”

“You got it.” Danny switches calls without looking away from the road, feeling the subtle shift in his molars and his canines as they sharpen and dull, sharpen and dull. “Williams,” he growls, and he’s not expecting the heavy breath or the quiet, blissful hum that sighs out of his tinny speakers before the other person speaks.

“Danny.”

The Camaro’s tires squeal and smoke when Danny hits the brakes, the force jolting him in his seat and forcing Joe to either brace himself or get thrown into the dashboard as they go from seventy to nothing far too quickly.

“ _Steve._ ” Fuck, fuck, he’s there; he’s on the phone and Danny can’t tell if he wants to scream or snarl more. “Where the fuck are you.”

“Max’s. Borrowed his phone.”

“ _Max’s_?” Danny hadn’t expected that, which means no one else will expect it either. Max is an efficient medical examiner, if a little more quirky than most of the people around him, but he’s another member of their mismatched family with a big heart. If Steve showed up on his welcome mat, bleeding and in need, Max wouldn’t turn him away; clearly, since he’s letting the man use his phone to call Danny.

“Cruiser?”

“Tell you when you get here.” Steve laughs softly but it’s strained, pained, and Danny needs to see him _now_.

“On the way, babe. Be there in five.” He’ll break most of the traffic laws to do it, but Danny is not capable of caring right now. Immunity and means has to be good for something, after all, even if Five-0 has been disbanded and they don’t have the backing of Jameson anymore. “Do not fucking move.”

“What if I get thirsty, Danny?” his partner teases. “Or I have to piss?”

“Do not move,” Danny growls again, low and threatening, and he hangs up before he spits out something childish like _I love you_ or _I’m so glad you’re okay_. Of course Steve is okay, he’s _Steve_. The relief hits him like a punch in the gut, as if Danny never had a chance of tracking the man down; like he’s just been given a glimpse of sunlight after heavy storm clouds. Danny starts the car again and drives in a haze, the world passing by in blurs of bright colors. Joe is talking to him but nothing registers; Danny has his mission, the goal is in sight. Nothing else matters.

Max answers the door barely a minute after Danny pounds his fist against it hard enough to put a dent in the wood and shift it in its frame. The eccentric man looks wary until he sees them, his smile immediate and bright as he steps back. Danny doesn’t wait for the door to open further, he makes sure Max won’t get hit and shoulders his way into the apartment. He takes in none of the décor, he’s only got eyes for Steve. Steve, who is standing on the other side of Max’s hideous-looking couch with a sheepish grin on his face in clothes that clearly don’t belong to him; at least he ditched the uniform, although seeing him alive and breathing reminds Danny abruptly that he is _furious_.

His partner is expecting something, but it’s probably not the way Danny gets in his face and _snarls_ until his smile vanishes and Steve’s hazel eyes widen.

“What the _hell_ is the _matter_ with you?” he shouts, blind to the fact that Joe has stepped inside and shut the door; ignoring Max as he frets and tries to interject weakly to diffuse the tension. “Breaking out of jail? Taking out a _cop_? What the fuck were you thinking, Steve? As if they didn’t want your ass bad enough already! Have you lost your _mind_?”

Steve looks baffled, like this wasn’t at all what he expected their reunion to be like. “Why are you yelling at me?”

“I’m not yelling at you,” Danny growls, even though he was yelling; he considers it justified. “When I’m yelling, you’ll know. Now tell me, what the fuck is the _matter_ with you?”

“It’s good to see you too, Danny,” Steve huffs, and he’s smiling again like being shouted at by five-foot-five-inches worth of pure Jersey Shifter sass and aggression is the best thing that’s happened to him all day. Danny wants to _beat_ him, he brings his fists up to do it, but then his hands are in Steve’s hair and he’s hauling him down. He grabs the man’s jaw to hold him in place, presses his fingers in hard enough he knows there will be dark smudges, and kisses Steve savagely enough that the man whines in pain even as he’s dragging Danny closer. Their tongues meet when Steve opens his mouth to Danny, who sweeps in and lays claim to every inch in ways he hasn’t been able to since the night before they dragged Steve out of the Governor’s house, claiming he’d shot her even though anyone who knew Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett would _know_ what complete and utter horseshit that was.

Danny kisses him until his lungs are burning, feeling the strength in the muscles trembling against his own. Steve must be so tired, he’s got to be in pain, but he’s got his arms around Danny and he won’t let go. He chases Danny’s mouth with a pitiful sound when he pulls back and licks at his lips and cheeks like he’s seeking comfort; nuzzles against Danny’s nose and breathes in short, quick gasps until the Shifter turns them and eases him down onto the couch beside them. Max and Joe watch as Danny untangles Steve’s hands from his shirt and his hair, a few blonde strands ripped free because Steve doesn’t want to let go but Danny is insistent. He doesn’t so much as twitch, trapping Steve’s wrists in one hand and using the other to thumb the buttons of his borrowed shirt open. Danny pushes Steve’s arms higher, growls, “Stay,” and lets go to push the undershirt up with both hands. He holds it out of his way, Steve’s skin almost too hot beneath his palms, and drops his head to nuzzle against the crisp white bandages that still hold traces of Max’s scent. He sniffs and noses at them gently, well aware of the wound underneath. It’s in the same spot, just above Steve’s left hip where the pain had been for Danny. It was almost gone by the time they reached Kamekona’s but Steve’s wound is still fresh and raw. Danny licks along the edge of the tape, tasting Steve’s skin and the sterilized bandages, and the muscles quiver beneath his exploration. He doesn’t look up, focused on marking every inch until Steve is shifting restlessly beneath his lips and the scent of his partner’s arousal is thick on Danny’s tongue.

He sits back once he’s satisfied and looks up, seeing how dark Steve’s eyes have become, the way his mouth is swollen from Danny’s kisses and his own teeth worrying the tender skin. He’s flushed and starting to sweat, desperate and relieved and still holding his wrists together; up and out of the way where Danny had pushed them. God, he’s so fucking gorgeous Danny almost can’t breathe from it; he has to push himself up onto his knees and cup the back of Steve’s neck, pulling him into a gentle kiss before licking across his bottom lip to feel the indents the man has left behind from biting back his words.

“Why?” Danny whispers. “Why didn’t you make contact? Why didn’t you leave a note, a sign, a fuckin’ _smoke signal_? Do you have any idea what-” He hisses out a shaky breath and shakes his head. “I’ve been going out of my _mind_ , Steven.”

“I’m sorry.” His partner does look sorry, regret making his brows heavy and his eyes shine a little too bright. His fingers are dancing up and down Danny’s sides like he can’t help himself, like days of conversation with a slab of reinforced glass between them has made him just as touch-starved, just as desperate for contact as Danny is. “I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want them to drag you in too.”

“Undercovers tried to follow us, but your boy shook them pretty easily,” Joe comments once the tension in the room has dropped to more reasonable levels. Steve jerks and blinks, surprised when he turns to see his old commanding officer; like he’d been so wrapped up in Danny that he hadn’t realized anyone else was there. “You alright, son?” the Commander asks kindly. Steve’s nod is stiff, but his smile is genuine.

“I’m alright, sir. Thank you. You okay?”

“I’ll be better once we get this all sorted out, but I’m pretty sure you all feel that way.”

There’s a knock at the door and Danny tenses immediately. Steve’s already gone for a gun, rolling off the couch like there isn’t a _hole_ in his side and coming up with his weapon at the ready. “Max, don’t,” he hisses when the young man goes for the door, but Max waves him off and opens it with a smile.

Danny realizes that he’s forgotten to make an important phone call when Chin hurries into the apartment and yanks the door shut behind him. He doesn’t look mad, nodding to Danny and murmuring, “ _Mahalo_ for calling,” to Max before he’s turning to face Steve and crowding in as close as he dares, reaching out but not going far enough to rest his hand on Steve’s shoulder; he knows better right now, it seems. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve grunts. His eyes flick between all of them before settling on Danny’s face and staying there, hazel meeting blue and communicating more than they could ever put into simple words. “I’m _fine_ ,” he stresses, running a hand through his hair. “All that matters right now is finding Wo Fat.”

“Where’d you ditch the squad car?” Chin presses, shaking his head and looking about as frustrated as Danny feels. He loves Steve, he truly does, but the man can have a one-track mind and they have other problems they need to deal with right now. They can figure out the shit with Wo Fat once they clear Steve’s name; right now, Danny doesn’t care about much else than that.

“Few blocks south, behind a construction site.” Rubbing a hand over his face, Steve lets out a noise of pure frustration that makes Danny ache with sympathy. It’s been such a shitstorm of a day and it’s nowhere near over, but they can’t rest right now. It’s only a matter of time before HPD looks to anyone Steve associates with; they’ll find Max’s house eventually.

“Alright. I’ll take it and ditch it over by North Shore; that’ll throw HPD off for a while,” Chin decides, like there’s nothing he’d rather do more than buy them time. Danny feels a flicker of warmth amongst the frosty anger Chin’s betrayal has created, but it’s Steve who snorts in disbelief and shakes his head.

“Distract HPD? Chin, you _are_ HPD, remember?” he growls. His eyes are narrow and his shoulders are up, but there’s not disguising the hurt that turns his tongue sharp. It shines from his eyes and fills the room, beating against Danny like a relentless wave until he’s stepping forward and crooning low in his throat.

“Once Five-0, always Five-0,” Chin says calmly, a mirror of the words he said to Danny not that long ago – god, it feels like days now. He taps the badge at his hip, his nail clicking against the HPD logo. “This badge doesn’t change that.” His words are honest and full of truth; it hits Danny’s nose like a refreshing ocean breeze, light and sweet and warm enough to thaw him the rest of the way. When Steve looks at him again, needing to know, he nods and watches his partner relax like he’s letting a heavy burden slide from his shoulders.

“Okay,” he accepts with a nod. “Okay, you did what you had to do. I get that. Right now, I want to find Wo Fat.”

“Kono is following one of his leads. We’ll know something as soon as she does.” Chin reaches out the rest of the way and Steve meets him; they grasp arms like brothers and smile, and Danny smiles as the bitter scent of anger fades from the apartment.

“I might be able to help with that,” Joe says suddenly, breaking his watchful silence and drawing attention to him. He pushes away from the wall where he’s been resting and holds up the picture of the metal Danny let him take from their board. “I know who this belonged to; I just needed time to find him. I can take you there.”

“Different cars,” Danny says immediately. “It’ll be easier for you to get away if the cops catch up.”

“I don’t think that’s nec-”

“No, he’s right, sir,” Steve interjects. “We’re already in this deep enough; you don’t need to taint your record with this. If they think you’re aiding me, you’ll get dragged in front of the board. I don’t want to risk that.” Joe looks like he’s ready to argue further, but Steve turns his puppy eyes to the Commander, beseeching and full of worry that Danny knows for a fact hits the recipient in the gut. Some of Steve’s expressions should be considered weapons of mass destruction; no one should be able to bring down so many people with just a look.

It seems that Joe is just as susceptible as the rest of them, because he nods resignedly after a moment and rattles off an address that Danny almost doesn’t catch. Steve nods once he’s got it and turns to head for the door, only to be stopped by Chin’s hand catching his forearm.

“You can’t take the Camaro; they’ll be looking for it,” he says quickly. “I can take Joe in my car; they think I’m out looking for you still. They won’t realize.”

“Where are we gonna find a car they won’t notice?” Danny complains. His frustration is getting the better of him; every time a door opens they hit a roadblock, and it’s driving him up the wall.

“Perhaps I can help,” Max offers suddenly; both Danny and Steve stare as he digs his car keys out of his pocket and holds them up. A tiny model of the Enterprise dangles from the end of the keychain, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“I’m going to buy you lunch when this is all over,” Danny announces. Max looks shocked before his expression morphs into delight, his eyes twinkling and his smile making him look completely different from the serious young man Danny is used to seeing.

“I’ll buy the beer,” Steve adds. He moves to grab the keys but Danny stops him with a hand against his chest and a scowl.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands. “You’re not driving anywhere. You are a _wanted man_.” Steve’s mouth snaps closed on whatever protests he was about to fight back with. “ _I_ am driving,” Danny clarifies, like he has to remind the man that he’s currently a fugitive on the run from the authorities. “ _You_ will be laying low in the back seat; emphasis on _laying_. Capiche?”

“Hear you loud and clear, Danno.” Steve’s tone is mocking but he’s got a smile on his face, so Danny takes the win with a dignified nod.

“Well then, let’s not wait around for the police to come knocking,” Joe says, and that is a solid plan. Danny can get behind that plan all the way.

This fucking day. Jesus.

 

\--

 

“Rachel’s staying in Hawaii, isn’t she?”

Danny meets Steve’s eyes in the rearview mirror and chews on his lip before nodding. “She’s moving back in with Stan,” he admits; it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as he’d thought it would. She’d been more than ready to run back to New Jersey; she’d asked _Danny_ to come with them. After Danny was poisoned and Stan’s business situations got them carjacked and threatened, she hadn’t been eager to stick around. She wanted to go home, back to the mainland – back to New Jersey, where her daughter was born and where she’d been happy before everything went to hell. She’d asked Danny to come, she’d pleaded with him and reminded him that Grace needed him, as if he could ever forget. She’s gotten better at shifting, but she’s still so young; she needs him to learn cues and understand the instincts that come along with her Shift. Rachel can’t teach her that, and she wouldn’t trust anyone else to try.

Danny had almost considered it, but he couldn’t do that to Steve. He couldn’t just leave, not when he was finally making a place for himself on O’ahu. Not when he was finally _happy_ again. It didn’t matter in the end; Rachel found a reason to stay.

“Why?” Steve sounds confused and annoyed, like hearing that Danny’s ex-wife is trying to fix things with the man who caused guns to be waved in her daughter’s face is the most baffling news he’s ever received. Danny can understand the feeling, and it warms his heart that Steve is already so protective of Grace. He treats her like she’s his own daughter and that makes the Shift beneath Danny’s skin rumble proudly; it pulls more than a few heartstrings in both forms, if he’s being honest.

“She’s pregnant.”

There’s not much Steve can say to that except for, “Oh.” He lets the silence grow between them for a few minutes, quiet and lost in thought before his eyes seek out Danny’s in the mirror again; Danny has been splitting his attention between the road and Steve since he started driving Max’s obnoxiously orange – but beautifully deceptive – car. It doesn’t matter that he’s caught staring, not when Steve smiles at him like that; warm and fond and a little sappy, like having Danny’s constant attention is endearing rather than annoying.

“At least Grace is staying,” he points out, and Danny nods.

“Damn right she’s staying. If Rachel tried to take her anyway, the law would be on my side,” he admits. Steve perks up at that, his head coming up enough to be noticeable if anyone tries to look in. “Head down,” Danny reminds him, but his partner doesn’t seem to notice.

“Because you’re a Shifter?”

Danny nods. “Rachel stripped me of as much visitation privilege as she could get during the divorce, but no judge would ever award her full custody. If Grace was human, maybe, but since she’s a Shifter they couldn’t ban me from seeing her completely.”

“Why is that?” Steve rests his head against the door and looks up at the ceiling of the car; his hand rests on his stomach, close to the bandages, and Danny fights down the instinct to pull over and make sure he hasn’t torn his wound open further. “Couldn’t another Shifter teach her control? Not that I’m saying they have any right to try,” he adds quickly, and Danny huffs at the way his partner trips over his words, trying to understand and not offend the blonde Shifter. It’s pretty adorable; men who look like Steve shouldn’t be allowed to go from battlefield-intense to wide-eyed and earnest between breaths. It’s really unfair.

“You know Shift breeds stay pretty much in the same species in family, yeah?” At Steve’s nod, Danny looks out the front windshield and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Maybe one of my family members could have taught her, like Matt, but none of them would have helped Rachel if she’d somehow managed to get full custody. The Williams family is full of canine Shifters, but we’re not all the same breed; Grace and I are, and mom and dad are, but everyone else is different.” He realizes he’s rambling and shakes his head. “Anyway, family is an important thing to Shifters. It’s a _pack_ thing, but it’s also cellular in a way. We shift a certain way that other Shifters don’t, and so on. A feline Shift can’t teach Grace how to be a dog any more than I could teach a parrot Shift how to become a bird. And Rachel would never have trusted a stranger with that. No stranger would dare try, precisely for that reason. If they tried to teach her a different way, they could hurt her. They could mess up her shifting ability and do _damage_ , and then it’s their ass in jail.”

“Shifting really is complicated, isn’t it?” Steve muses. Danny shrugs and rocks his head from side to side with a noncommittal noise.

“Depends on how you look at it,” he mutters. “It’s not so much learning how to shift; it’s learning to control the instincts and emotions that come with it. We keep our intelligence and our consciousness, we keep what makes us who we are, but we pile a whole heaping load of animalistic impulses on top of that. Everything gets enhanced; it’s like you’re turning up the volume on the television. We have to learn to control that or we’ll go insane. Or feral.”

Steve latches onto that last part just like Danny hoped he wouldn’t, sinking his metaphorical teeth into that tidbit of information and chewing it over; his eyes go distant and glazed like he’s off somewhere else, the muscles in his forearms twitching and his fingers drumming against his abdomen. Danny lets him stew; he focuses on driving and listening for the GPS to give him his next set of instructions. When Steve does finally speak again, his voice is so soft that Danny almost doesn’t hear him, even with his oversensitive hearing.

“What happened to you and Rachel, Danny? I know that’s why you fight your Shift so hard. And you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but it hurts. It hurts to see you battling yourself all the time, when you know that I’ll never judge you. You do know that, don’t you? I will _never_ judge you.”

The scent of Steve’s honestly is a sweet balm, but Danny knows that it’s easy to make promises when you don’t really know what you’re promising against. Rachel had made the same mistake, which is probably why it’s eaten away at him for so long. He almost wants to tell Steve to leave it; he knows the man will drop the subject and he won’t bring it up again, but that _hurt_ will bruise his scent until Danny hates himself down to the very bottom of his tortured soul. Steve doesn’t deserve that, and they won’t last if Danny continues to keep himself closed off. Steve has already shared so much with him, he’s shown Danny parts of himself – _beautiful skin torn apart by scars, stories of pain and horror that almost ended in **death**_ – that no one else has seen in a long time, if ever. He’s shared memories that were painful enough to make him shudder and drown in panic while he relived each gruesome terror; all because Danny promised to be there for him so he didn’t have to do it alone. And when he asks for the same, when he _deserves_ the same reciprocation, Danny’s fear makes him want to spit denials just to keep himself safe.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so unworthy of anyone’s love.

“We were out to dinner one night,” he says after the silence has become so weighted that Steve’s apprehension fills the car and burns in Danny’s lungs. The spike of shock makes him want to close his eyes; he forces them to stay focused on the road and refuses to look away. “It was about a month or so before Grace was due. We went to this little place around the corner, and it was close enough that she insisted on walking. She said-” He pauses and chokes out a laugh; when Steve tries to say something Danny growls until he’s quiet again. “She said she’d spent enough time sitting down; she wanted to get up and move. So we walked, and it was… it was good. We had a lot of fun. She looked so beautiful. She was fucking _glowing_ , okay, and it was a good dinner.”

Steve is listening, his razor-sharp focus all on Danny. Whether it’s from being  a SEAL or it’s just something he’s always been able to do, it’s still humbling. It’s also bolstering; Danny takes the strength Steve is so willing to give, the support he’s so easily trying to offer, and he uses it to keep his throat from swelling shut and trapping his words behind a knot of old pain and self-loathing.

“Maybe I was too distracted by her,” he admits hoarsely. “These guys, they came out of a fucking alley. Like we’re in some stupid movie, okay, they came out with guns. I guess they thought we’d be an easy thing because Rachel was pregnant and she couldn’t move fast. They didn’t count on me being a cop, I think; or they were just too damn coked out of their skulls to realize that I was. I thought they were going to shoot her, so I gave them the money they wanted. They were so paranoid, Steve. So fucking paranoid.” He clenches his fingers around the steering wheel of Max’s car hard enough that he feels it crack. “One of them shot me, I thought they were going to shoot Rachel. I thought they were going to kill her, all for another score.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, he finally meets Steve’s wide, horrified gaze but he can’t bring himself to hold it. “I don’t know if you’ve realized it, yet,” he grunts with a wry, bitter twist of his lips, “but being with a Shifter is a little different than being with another human. Depending on the Shift… we’re _possessive_. Violently possessive. Some of us mate for life; once you have us that’s it, and you either live in bliss or you’ll grow to resent each other; you’ll tear each other apart and neither of you will ever be able to leave. I thought Rachel was it for me; I thought I’d never want anyone else. So when I saw the one turn his gun on her, I snapped.” He can still remember it, the stench of gunfire and the pain of being shot; the fear that had turned into a roaring fury, his Shift exploding from his skin with violent _intent_ and lunging. The terrified screams and the acrid taste of poisoned blood.

“I tore them apart. It was the first time Rachel had ever seen me shift, and she watched me rip those two men apart. The police had to dig up their dental records to identify them. I was suspended and sent to Control Management classes; they didn’t give my badge back until I could prove it wouldn’t happen again. I wasn’t charged, because my wife’s life had been in danger. The judge ruled in my favor; everyone knows how Shifters can be.” He spits it out like a curse instead of a redemption. Compromised instincts don’t change what he did, even if Danny would do it all over again. He’d keep himself under control better, but he’d still tear them apart; just with his bare hands instead of teeth and claws.

“You had every right,” Steve says, and the truth of his words hits Danny like a wave; damn near sends him reeling as he tumbles through too many emotions before finally settling on resigned apathy. “Shifter or not, Danny, you had every right. They pulled a gun on your wife; your _pregnant_ wife. You had every right to do what you did.”

“The right thing would have been to arrest them and throw them in jail,” Danny mutters.

Steve snorts. “So they could have gotten out in a few months or a few years and probably done it to someone else? No, in that case, you did what was right.”

“I wasn’t some SEAL on a super secret mission, McGarrett,” Danny snaps, his voice dangerously loud in the cramped interior of the car. He wants Steve to be angry, he wants him to be _furious_ , because it’s better than the compassion and understanding he’s getting. It’s better than giving Danny hope only to make him watch as Steve takes it and walks out the door a few months down the road when this beautiful, passionate thing between them dies.

“No, you were a man protecting the woman he loved.” Why the fuck does he have to make everything sound so _simple_? The world is not all black and white, damn it, but Steve absolves Danny with a single fucking sentence and Danny can’t tell if he wants to scream or cry because of it. He loves Steve so fucking much and it’s going to kill him when he’s gone. He’ll go back to being a shell, void of life when he doesn’t have Grace to remind him that there are still beautiful things in the world.

“You have known me for a year, McGarrett, and you have never once seen me shift,” he forces out past thick, sharp canines.

“I’m very well trained in being patient,” Steve retorts easily. Danny definitely wants to scream now, but he sucks in a harsh, angry breath through his nose and tries not to think too hard on why he feels more in control right now than he has any other time he’s gotten this angry. Even with fangs filling his mouth and claws tearing into the back of the steering wheel, he feels so fucking calm he’s almost _serene_.

“We’ve been doing this thing for over two months and we haven’t had sex _once_. What do you _want_ from me?”

“I want _you_ , Danny.” Steve sits up as far as he dares and grabs Danny’s elbow. He pushes as close as he can get and doesn’t flinch when the position has to strain his wounded side in terrible ways. He’s too focused on dragging Danny’s free hand into the back seat and interlocking their fingers. He noses at the fine hairs on Danny’s forearm before pressing his mouth to the knob of his wrist bone. “I want every part of you,” he admits quietly, a promise and a plea in one. The words travel up through Danny’s muscles and beat against the barrier around his heart, leaving spiderweb-like cracks across the surface. “If that means I have to wait six more weeks or six more _years_ , I’ll do it. You’re worth more than a roll between the sheets, Danny Williams, and if you haven’t figured that out already I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

Trust Steve to turn a heartfelt declaration into something that includes violence. It’s enough to make Danny smile, his eyes burning and his chest aching.

“I love you too, you fucking animal,” he rasps, and Steve laughs silently against his wrist. He presses a trail of light kisses across the back of Danny’s hand and over his knuckles; the angle isn’t ideal but Danny would rather stare down the barrel of a gun again than pull away now. “You are impossible,” he announces. Steve’s soft hair tickles his arm when the man nods in agreement.

“But you love me,” he says happily, fixated on that and refusing to let it go. Not that Danny tries hard to make him.

“I don’t know if I’m ready yet,” he admits, hating himself for it but knowing that it’s the truth.

“I wasn’t ready when we met,” Steve reminds him. “I would rather have killed a Shifter than shaken their hand, but you helped me. You helped me _heal_ , Danny, and I want to help you heal too. If that means I have to wait, then I’ll wait. If we don’t have sex until you’re comfortable enough to give me _everything_ , I can wait. I _will_ wait. Because this is more than just sex to me, Danny. This is _everything_.”

“You are the sappiest person alive.” Danny can’t help his smile; can’t help the way it makes him feel more complete than he has in far too long when Steve presses one last kiss to his elbow before laying back down. He doesn’t miss the subtle wince his partner doesn’t manage to hide, or the shaky breath he lets out once he’s flat on his back again. Steve put himself through pain just to prove a point, and it makes Danny a coward that he can’t quite do the same yet, but he knows that it will happen. Once Steve is focused on something, nothing will make him deviate from it. He’ll walk through a firestorm of bullets and come out on the other side bloody but smiling because he’ll have emerged victorious. Danny isn’t quite ready to stand in front of the firing squad yet, but Steve will help him get there. Not because he thinks he owes Danny for helping him to work through his own demons, but because he _loves_ Danny and he wants them to come out on the other side _together_.

“You love it,” Steve snorts. Danny reaches back and rests his hand on Steve’s arm, painful angle be damned, and the man is quick to wrap his fingers around the Shifter’s wrist. Danny basks in the comfort, in the _connection_ , and he doesn’t bother trying to deny it.

“Yeah,” he says, turning onto a hidden driveway and watching the house grow out of the surrounding landscape as they approach. He can see Joe waiting out front and he knows that they’re one step closer to finding Wo Fat, to _ending_ this fight, and he vows to be the one standing at Steve’s side every step of the way. Not because they’re partners; not just because of Five-0. He’s made his choice, and it won’t be easy – it’s been anything but easy so far, he’s got no reason to think that it will be in the future. Regardless, he’s chosen his side. He’s laid his cards down, and every single one of them plays in Steve’s favor, for better or worse. And Danny has no issue with that.

“Yeah,” he says again. Steve’s love smells like cinnamon and honey; aside from Grace’s scent, it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. “I do.”


End file.
